


And All of My Peaches

by orphan_account



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Apocalypse
Genre: Canon Rewrite, Episode Related, F/M, Graphic Description, Interviews, Sexual Tension, Vore
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-28
Updated: 2019-07-28
Packaged: 2020-07-23 09:55:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 726
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20006398
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Rewrite of Mallory's final interview with Michael from Season 8 Episode 3.





	And All of My Peaches

**Author's Note:**

> Mind the Vore, whores. If it's not your thing don't read. 
> 
> If you're simply curious, check it out it might be your new thing (step into my parlour said the spider to the fly). 
> 
> The characters and plot of American Horror Story: Apocalypse belong to Ryan Murphy and Brad Falchuk. Title is from Lana Del Rey's "Cherry."
> 
> All mistakes are my own.

Trying to convince Mallory of her place in his new world is exhausting. She parries each of his ripostes with bland assertions of her morality. Michael touches her because he’s desperate to pin her down. Desperate to establish a connection to the darkness he can feel thrumming beneath her skin.

The tear that runs down her cheek is a sign that he’s finally struck a blow to her facade. He’s impatient for her response to his question. “I feel like there’s someone buried inside me, trying to claw their way out,” Mallory breathes. The words are little more than a whisper, but they fill him with effusive joy.

“Who?” he presses.

Mallory breaks eye contact. “I don’t know.” Michael brings her gaze back to his. He can’t let her flee when they’re so close to a breakthrough. “Would you like to find out?” he asks. “I could help you.”

“How?” she questions. Michael can’t abide the lost tone of her voice. He’s found her, after all. She will never be misplaced again—a gem squirrelled away in the ruins of the old world. He’ll elevate her to her rightful place at his side.

“There are ways that I could split you open. See what’s inside of you.” He pauses to watch her pulse jump close to the surface of her neck. He wants to bite it.

“Would you like that, Mallory? Would you like me to open you up?”

Mallory’s eyes dart to the white flash of his teeth. He sees her breaths speed up, her hindbrain reacting to the looming maw of a predator. Her voice breaks when she replies, “Y-yes.”

Michael presses a thumb to her trembling lips and drags downward so that a trail of saliva paints her chin and neck. He cups the base of her throat.

“Magic flows in my veins. There are rituals I could do to release what’s buried, to expand your perception of this world and other domains.” He flexes his fingers over her airway. “I would open you with my blade. Slice through the skin of your chest and slide my hand into the wound. Feel your wet, slick flesh. The heat. You’d be burning up inside.” Mallory gasps at that. She squirms in the seat of her chair. The movement has a scent blossoming in the space between them.

Michael’s eyes nearly roll back in ecstasy at the assault on his senses. The bouquet of Mallory’s arousal is finer than any aroma he’s ever encountered. He thinks he could taste her if he forked his tongue in the air.

“Does the idea of that excite you?” he asks. “My hand inside of you, feeling all the parts that are hidden.” His cock stirs at the thought of discovering all of her. “I’d pluck your beating heart from your chest so I could feel the movement of electricity through the muscle. The meat of you would be tender. A ripe ruby liberated from pulp and rind.”

Mallory closes her eyes as if the image is too much to bear. She has a white-knuckle grip on the skirt of her dress, but Michael can still see the shift of her thighs rubbing together. He sneers at the grey fabric shielding her cunt from his eyes. Such a specimen deserves finer trappings.

He lowers his hand to rest on her knee and leans in close to her ear. “Would you let me eat you?” he whispers. Her harsh exhale rustles the hair at his temple. He sees her spine stiffen in his peripheral vision. Close as he is, he catches the barely audible yes that passes her lips.

Michael leans back to gauge her expression. She looks euphoric though her eyes are still tightly closed. “I’d eat you in pieces. Small mouthfuls of tender meat,” he continues. He skims his palm up her leg and grips the top of her thigh. Mallory whimpers.

Michael’s burning. He’s set alight by the fantasy. “I’d save myself for you. Leave myself empty inside so there would be nothing between us. So you could know me too.” The yearning in his voice is palpable. He circles his thumb over her cloth covered mound.

Mallory’s eyes shoot open with a gasp. He savors his next words before he releases them into the air.

“I’d eat all of you and be ruined for anything else.”


End file.
